


undream’d shores

by a_wonderingmind



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, PWP, Playful Sex, Porn with Feelings, Shakespeare, Tenderness, and they love each other very much, it's Jack, they're just very sappy okay, though what were we expecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_wonderingmind/pseuds/a_wonderingmind
Summary: The afore-promised smutty follow up toa sense of each other, only three months later!
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	undream’d shores

**Author's Note:**

> There's still something about this piece that I don't feel quite happy with; but as I can't put my finger on it, I thought y'all should have it despite my perfectionism :D Enjoy!

Marinating in post-coital bliss, Phryne shifted her weight to nestle in his shoulder. She sighed, and he can hear the cogs beginning to turn in her mind.  
“Jack?”

“Hm?”

“That quote, from earlier, I thought it was an admonishment against going into an adventure unprepared?”

He smirked. “Perhaps it’s appropriate all the same. If you’ll allow me a moment of candour - ”

“Always,”

“- this, us; it was, it is, an unknown adventure. I couldn’t make plans for this. I never quite knew if I’d find my safe haven here.”

She was silent for a moment.

“It’s the same for me too,” she whispered, soft enough that Jack only just caught it.

He pulled her closer and rested his head on hers.

“I’ve found my safe haven, though, Jack,” she whispered again, stronger this time. She traces a finger over his chest, in unpatterned lines, before resting her hand over his heart. The warmth that filled it wasn’t entirely caused by the press of her palm.

She hummed pleasantly and he indulged in one of his favourite things - tucking her hair behind her ear, he let his fingers absentmindedly stroke the top of her head; his thoughts as gentle as the press of fingers. The last thing he remembered being conscious of was that Phryne’s breathing was deep and even, before he himself slipped into a quiet slumber.

*******

Being woken by the sun streaming through the curtains was a much more abrupt awakening than the manner in which they’d fallen asleep, though still tangled in each other.

Or, more accurately, Jack thought, as his consciousness fought its way through the fog of sleep, Phryne was tangled up in him.

He was lying on one side, a leg sandwiched between his own and another pressed up against his thigh. Her head rested on his forearm, though she had clearly pushed off of him in the night, as she was lying an arms length away from him, hand palm up against his chest and the other flung across the bed. She snuffled quietly, and her nose scrunched adorably.

Jack blew out a breath carefully; these few moments in the morning were the only moments he saw Hurricane Phryne halt her motion, and he had learned to treasure them. In the light of the early morning sun, she was at once ethereal and incredibly human; he felt privileged to see her this vulnerable.

This angelic version of Phryne could also be positively sinful, if she so chose. She often chose to be when he definitely had to go to work, and her mischievous smile was almost worth the mild suffering he would have to endure that day until he could reasonably beg off and return to her (it was always worth it when he did). Today was not one of those days, he realised with a smile.

Just then, Phryne rolled back into his chest and frowned, whether from the sun that was now directly on her face, or the unexpected barrier of his torso, he was unsure. He chuckled and her eyes fluttered open at the noise, an open smile spreading over her face as she looked up at him.

“Good morning, darling,”

“Mmmm,” she replied, burrowing into his chest. A second later; “You’re still here? What time is it?”

She whimpered petulantly as he turned over to check his watch, which was sitting on the bedside table.

“Eight-thirty,” he said into her hair, pressing a kiss to her crown.

“Don’t you need to be at work soon?”

“No,” he smiled, “I’ve been ordered to take the weekend off, remember?”

“I do now,” she smiled beatifically back at him. Jack was struck suddenly by her resemblance to a cat, as she squirmed and burrowed deeper into the pillows, shoulder blades arching and settling into the expanse of her back. He felt the overwhelming temptation to run a finger down her spine, so he gave in to it.

He could feel her suppress a shiver at his gesture, and decided to tease her. They had the time, and he could give as good as he got. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled himself level with her and started to trace patterns over the curve of her shoulders, joining up her freckles like constellations, placing soft kisses in the middle of each one and drawing soft sighs from her lips, muffled in the pillows.

His fingers travelled lower, across the planes of her upper back, and he tucked them into her side, skating along the edge of her belly, down the stripe he knew to be ticklish. She squirmed under his touch and rolled further into him, pushing her bottom against his crotch, which was beginning to react to the fact he had Phryne Fisher squirming in his lap.

He decided to ignore the growing hardness in favour of finishing what he started, so he snaked his arm around her stomach and traced the opposite side again, her wiggles taking on a decidedly unrestrained quality as she shrieked in laughter and tried to escape.

“Jack!”

“Yes, Miss Fisher,” he replied, trying to keep the smile out of his voice, “that is my name,”

Her retort came in the form of a hand flung behind her to pinch at his side, which always made him jump.

Unfortunately for her, the sudden movement it prompted happened to be Jack’s other arm coming to wrap around her torso and clamping her to him, as he rolled over, pulling her on top of him. She smirked. She could work with this.

Jack’s hands continued to make spider motions over her belly, up and down, just ghosting the underside of her breast, making her breath hitch. Between that and the deep belly laughs that bubbled up from within her at the feeling of Jack chuckling beneath her, it was a good few minutes before she could get her breathing under control enough to mount a counterattack.

She threw herself to the side, the surprise movement tipping him just enough for her to wrench herself from his grip and dive back at him, coaxing his broad, uninhibited smile from its hiding place in the corners of his eyes and making him shake with laughter. With a matching smirk, she pushed herself up and straddled him.

His eyes, which had been squeezed shut in battle against tears of mirth, flew open. Underneath the playful sparkle, she could see a desire in his eyes she was sure was reflected in hers. Seeing him so laid back was such a gift, all the layers of Detective Inspector and former soldier and propriety peeled back to reveal her Jack, the wonderful, playful, _decent_ man he was. Trailing her finger down his sternum, she tried to communicate just how glad she was that he had allowed her to see his unbuttoned self. She shifted on top of him as she registered a familiar (and definitely not unwelcome) heat between her thighs, and watched his eyes darken further. She could tell he could feel it too, damp curls tickling his stomach. His hands came up to rest on her hips and gently drew her towards him.

She leaned in, unable to suppress the mischievous grin as she swallowed his surprised gasp at her fingers attacking his armpits, before matching his ferocious response, all hungry tongue and teeth, with equanimity. She pressed herself to him and he reached between them, kneading her breast, pulling whimpers from deep inside her.

With no more than a hand grasping her waist for warning, he flipped them; something almost a growl escaping his lips as he fastened them over hers once more.

Her hands came up and around his shoulders, gripping with her nails and leaving half moons on his back. She pressed herself to him, wanting as much contact as possible, wanting to be as close to him as the physical universe would allow. Bringing a hand up to the nape of his neck, she stroked a hand through the short hairs there and coaxed a prolonged groan from him. She took the opportunity his open mouth gave her to lavish attention on the deep cleft of his lip, pressing kisses first to his philtrum and then capturing his face between her hands to trace his jaw and down his throat. She felt, rather than heard, him growl at her ministrations.

A hand crept up and enveloped her breast again, kneading softly and she arched into it. Jack captured her lips again and drew her tongue into his mouth. She sighed into the kiss, simply luxuriating in his love for her and, though she had never thought it possible, just how much she loved him back.

Jack’s arousal was pressing against her belly, and he was beginning to shift uncomfortably. It was not urgent, not yet, he was too wrapped up in the feel of her against him and how good, how nice, how much like _home_ it felt to be there in that moment. He just loved her, plain and simple, and he knew how much she loved him back. He had known, really, but the confession of the night before had buried lingering doubts he hadn’t known he had.

He trailed a hand back down her torso and slipped an exploratory finger into the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs, and she keened, bucking up, trying to get his fingers where she wanted them. Smirking against her lips, he obliged and traced the petals of her sex before pressing one finger to her clit, swallowing the quiet moan she made. Starting a circular motion around her sensitive nub, he felt her hips begin to shift in a counterrythm and push against his hand.

She was scraping her fingers through his hair and he could feel her pulling him in. He acquiesced, laving his tongue across the tendons in her neck, dropping kisses on her collarbone as she hummed.

A curse slipped past his lips and her low hum turned to a moan, which in turn vibrated against him and drew another low rumble from his chest. He could feel her undulating beneath him, pressing against the ridge of his cock, the smell of sex and heat enveloping them.

Swiping a finger once more across her clit, he pushed it into her channel and she arched up.

“Yes, Jack,” she breathed.

He curled his finger, dragging it gently across her inner walls, finding the spot that made her keen.

He looked up at her, the question in his eyes as he drew his hand back, letting his thumb rest just to the right of her most sensitive spot.

She moaned. “More, Jack, please,”

“Happy to oblige,” he grinned, and her eyes bored into him with joking exasperation.

He plunged a finger back in again, then another, then another, watching the pleasure-pain flit across her face.

His thumb started up a figure of eight movement between the top of her folds and he was rewarded with a gush of moisture and another moan.

“Ngh, Jack… need you,”

He was about to look to her for confirmation, but she grabbed him, sliding her hands up and down his velvet-over-steel length, just to hear his strangled groan, meeting his slightly surprised glance with a mischievous one of her own, before positioning him at her entrance and meeting his eyes again.

When he slipped into her, it was like a breath, frictionless and final. She could feel him moving inside her, the stretch delicious and his fingers returning to their previous ministrations was enough to drive her to distraction. She could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer, but oh, it felt so good, the way he slid in and out of her, bumping up against her walls as he pumped. She could feel her body climbing, spring winding low in her belly.

“Phryne… so close,”

“Yes, me too, Jack…”

And when she finally came, it wasn't crashing waves and rolling thunder, the sky split open, but satisfaction rolled over like the tide, seeping into her bones and stilling her movement. His name escaped her on a breath; the small, incredibly vulnerable sound halted his own for a second, and combined with the fluttering of her cunt, nudged him over the edge too and he rolled his lips to suppress a moan. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and mouthed it, suckling on the part he knew always grounded her pleasure.

“Jack,” she breathed again, and a wave of love washed over him. He sent a prayer up to whatever god was listening to thank them for giving him the chance to even hear that sound, let alone elicit it.

He lifted his head to look into her eyes, hovering between stormy grey and a clearer blue, still half-mast, but broadcasting such love that he felt even his heart, as wide as the pacific ocean as it was, couldn’t hold it all.

“I love you, Phryne,”

“I love you too; my Jack,"

He hummed softly, and folded the memory into his heart, to be carefully treasured for the rest of his days.


End file.
